


when the tide changes i still adore you

by burnedbefore



Series: how to be me [3]
Category: Motherland: Fort Salem (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Hanahaki Disease, Reunions, Slow Burn, au if scylla was sent to the carribean, the unit didn't go to china, this is gonna hurt and i am sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:15:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27626660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burnedbefore/pseuds/burnedbefore
Summary: au where scylla was sent to the caribbean and the unit did not go to china.orscylla is really fucking sick of coughing up petels.ora hanahaki au
Relationships: Abigail Bellweather & Raelle Collar & Tally Craven, Abigail Bellweather & Scylla Ramshorn, Anacostia Quartermaine & Scylla Ramshorn, Raelle Collar & Scylla Ramshorn, Raelle Collar/Scylla Ramshorn, Tally Craven & Scylla Ramshorn
Series: how to be me [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1942150
Comments: 83
Kudos: 188





	1. i was little, i was weak, and perfectly naive

_Something has to be said for being tortured for almost a month._

_Really, the only thing that Scylla is questioning is the ways they were having their fun._

_Boring, really._

_The door creaked open, fighting against the rusted metal with a piercing screech._

_Scylla grinned tiredly, cocking her head as the same witch from last time stopped in front of her._

_“Back for more already? Though I was told there would be time to swim- oh, but Anacostia didn’t let me pack my bathing suits-“_

_A sudden surge of electricity cut off the brunette’s words, leaving them to die in her throat as unbearable pain clouded her system. Her cries morphed into a scream, echoing through the darkroom and black spots appeared to be floating in front of her eyes._

_The number of times she had been electrocuted was more times than she could count. It wasn’t bad, per se. Scylla simply believed the military could come up with more creative ideas, instead of the old same old, same old._

_When it was over, the witch grinned wickedly, pushing her back against the chair with a grunt. Scylla gasped for air, ignoring the hot tears streaming down her cheeks. A weak smug smirk pulled on her lips with a dark gleam in her eyes._

_“I think I liked it better at Fort Salem.”_

___

_“Fort Salem is shit.”_

_Raelle huffed, slamming her closet door shut with an excess amount of force. The feeling of frustration pulsed in her chest, ready to explode and attack anyone near. Abigail and Tally_ _sat on the same bed, eyes slightly wide at the loud noises._

_“It’s the safest place right now, Raelle.” Abigail shot back, annoyed by her sister’s behavior._

_“Oh, I bet.” Raelle sniped, rolling her eyes. She sprawled out on her bed, head lolled to the side with dead eyes. “Just can’t wait to move on.”_

_Tally winced._

_“Rae…” she started._

_Suddenly, Raelle sat up, ignoring her Unit’s strange looks._

_“I’m going for a walk.”_

_

Anacostia stared at the person across from her, taking in every detail of each scar, scratch, and smudge. The food in front of them has gone cold—well hers has. The other plate sat bare, cleaned of every crumb and trace eagerly, like a dog with a bone.

Sudden uneasiness fell upon the witch at the past memories she had witnessed, sending a chill down her spine.

_I want to know how someone gets to be you._

_Lots of practice._

Clearing her throat, Anacostia leaned forward, resting her forearms on the counter. Skeptical eyes tracked her every move, just waiting for something to kick in the flight and fight instincts.

“Why am I here? How-how am I here?”

Anacostia chuckled lightly. “I wouldn’t worry about that.”

“Why?”

“Trust me.” She spoke firmly, meeting the alluring eyes with no fear. “It’s best if you don’t know.”

The older witch stood up, ignoring the scrutinizing glare thrown in her direction. With a small pained smile, she pushed her plate of food across the counter, wincing slightly at the scratching noise. 

“You should eat more.”

She turned around, not waiting for a response, and started heading for the stairs. The sound of frantic chewing and old china rattling against the hard countertop stopped the witch in her tracks. Subtly, she peeked over her shoulder, frowning at the sight of the desperation for food, as if someone was going to take it away.

_They probably did,_ Anacostia thought, sighing to herself.

The noise settled and the same uncertain eyes looked up at her with slight embarrassment.

“I was hungry.”

Anacostia simply nodded and ignored the strange sight of vulnerability. Instead, she made her way up the stairs before turning to call over her shoulder.

“Good to see you’re still human, Ramshorn.”

_

Scylla sighed to herself, looking around the empty kitchen.

The wooden cabinets were worn and scratched by Goddess knows what and one window stood above the sink and barely let in any light. The walls were plain, painted a dull ugly green shade that made Scylla wince when looking at it. The layout of the house was too familiar and caused the pit in her stomach to deepen.

She stood slowly up, ignoring the creaking sound from the wooden stool from her shifting her weight. Scylla walked forward, mindlessly following the worn floorboards down the hallway as she grew more uneasy.

She knew this place.

Tired eyes landed on the wall to her left, catching a glimpse of an old picture frame. Scylla stopped in her tracks, stilling for just a moment as her breaths came out sharper.

_“But why do you have to hide it?”_

_Crinkled eyes shifted away from the wall in front of them. Old plastic glasses balanced on the tip of a nose, sliding forward more as she turned more fully. The older brunette smiled warmly at the child in front of her, leaning down to press a kiss at the crown of her head._

_Scylla beamed up at the woman, eyes watching her intently._

_“Think of it this way, honey.” Her mother began, grabbing the picture frame from under her arm and holding it out in front of her. “If we do put it there, guess what.”_

_“What?” She said, tilting her head, watching as the older woman pulled an old photograph from her pocket, smoothing it before looking at it fondly. She turned to Scylla, pausing for a moment before kneeling down to her daughter’s level._

_“Do you know what a secret is?” She asked, handing Scylla the picture to look at. Scylla shook her head as her tiny hands grasped at the flimsy material. Her mother laughed quietly, flipping the picture frame over and revealing a small black envelope stuck to the back._

_Scylla gasped._

_“A secret is something that you have to keep to yourself, Scyl.” Her mother spoke softly, shaking her head fondly. “Because sometimes keeping secrets can be good.”_

_“Sometimes?” Scylla questioned, eyebrows furrowing at the sudden far away look in her mother’s eyes._

_Her mother sighed, ducking her head before meeting the same alluring blue eyes again with a pained expression._

_“Yes. Sometimes it can be bad.”_

_Scylla pondered on the information, mouthing words to herself as the older witch watched with pure adoration pouring from her gaze. Suddenly, the tiny brunette held out the photograph in front of her body, waiting for her mother to take it._

_“This can be our secret, honey.” she smiled, taking the photo and slipping it in the envelope, sealing it before turning the picture frame around once more. “A good secret.”_

_A quietness fell over the two. Young attentive eyes watched as the older witch hung the picture frame on the wall, adjusting it until it was level before stepping back to observe her work._

_A proud smile pulled on her mother’s lips._

_“How will I know?” Scylla asked, breaking the silence._

_Her mother kept her eyes on the frame._

_“Know what, Scyl?”_

_Scylla squirmed._

_“How will I know when a secret is good or bad.”_

_A tender smile._

_“You’ll learn, Scylla. And then someday you’ll learn when you don't want 'em.”_

Scylla stood in front of the blank wall, staring at the crooked picture frame hanging on the wall. Her whole life she learned to keep secrets because that’s what they needed to do. Tell as little as possible and keep moving, to live—to survive. And here it was, the very beginning where she learned how to lie and what, something so simple yet so destructive, is.

_Goddess_ , it was taunting her, because what irony. Here she was, done with the lies and keeping her true self from the person she loves, only to be kidnapped to the very place it all started.

_Fuck you too, world._

___

“You kidnapped me.”

Anacostia didn’t respond, turning the page of her book as Scylla Ramshorn burst into the room, slamming the door against the wall, barely wincing.

“You kidnapped me.” She repeated, stopping in front of her chair. “Why.”

“You know you continuously cause me to age faster, Ramshorn,” Anacostia said with a sigh, setting her book on the table beside her.

Scylla clenched her jaw.

“Yes, I did,” Anacostia answered, meeting the steely gaze.

“Why.”

Brown eyes gazed into blue, studying the young girl in front of her before standing up abruptly.

“Are you aware of how long you were in the Caribbean for, Ramshorn?”

Scylla looked down, swallowing at the mere mention of the consistent pain and torture for the last weeks. “Two months or so.” She spoke firmly, snapping her eyes up and throwing a cold look towards the older witch.

“Things are getting out of hand,” Anacostia announced, stepping forward into the girl’s space more, eyes hard. “And whether the military likes it or not…we need you.”

Well, that was something Scylla never thought she would hear.

A sharp laugh burst from her lips, echoing in the plain room as Anacostia looked on with an unamused expression.

“I’m sorry, I thought you said-” Scylla gasped, the grin on her face growing wider. “-the military _needs_ me.”

When the witch was met with silence, her laughter died in her throat and the condescending grin dropped.

“You’re serious,” Scylla stated, raising her eyebrows with a bitter chuckle. “I doubt that.”

“You are the only one who can help advance our cadets,” Anacostia said, crossing her arms. “You have knowledge of the military and the Spree.”

Scylla opened her mouth to argue.

“Like it or not, Ramshorn.” The older witch cut her off, fixing her with a hard look. “You are, unfortunately, valuable in order to defeat the Camarilla.”

A heavy silence settled over them. The kind of silence that had Scylla grind her teeth together at the mere thought of the return of the worst enemy to witches.

She couldn’t get a break.

“Does Alder know you’re here?” Scylla asked quietly, cracking the bones in her knuckles—a habit she had picked up from-

“Raelle.” She breathed out, eyes widening at the thought of the blonde. Her voice losing its firm tone as the brunette felt herself growing more desperate. “Raelle- is she okay? Is she safe?”

Anacostia suddenly looked down, shifting on her feet as if uncomfortable with the sudden change of serious topic to a much heavier one—one with more risks to break someone—to break Scylla.

“Collar is-” She cleared her throat to buy time, stiffly adjusting her collar of her jacket. “-Collar is doing very well.”

The light in Scylla’s eyes dimmed.

Of course, she was happy that the Fixer was doing well—that’s all Scylla wanted since she met the blonde—but Scylla had disappeared, gone, vanished in thin air, and a part of her thought- _hoped_ that Raelle would worry about her- would miss her.

_Well, fuck you again, world._


	2. it was like a switch was flipped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turns out being tortured for two months straight can have major effects on your body.
> 
> Scylla sighed.

Turns out being tortured for two months straight can have major effects on your body.

_Huh,_ Scylla sighed, _who knew?_

The pain radiating through her back had the brunette clenching her jaw, biting back her groans as she attempted to stretch out the stiff muscles. Laying flat on the carpet on her stomach, Scylla pushed off her hands, lifting her upper body slowly off the floor. Relief flooded as her back settled for a moment. Sadly, her relief was short-lived as sore tendons tightened in protest and sent out sharp waves, sending the girl to the ground with barely any time to catch herself.

“Dammit.” Scylla groaned, squeezing her eyes closed.

It’s been a couple of days since Scylla had learned of Anacostia’s plan to force her and the military to work together. The mere thought sent shivers down her spine, settling low in her stomach like a cold brick. Force being a major key part of the witch’s plan, which was something she had found amusing. Anacostia had made it subtly clear that Alder was not aware of the plan or that, somehow, Scylla was missing. At first, she had thought it was another thing to try to trick her with but then she remembered how she didn’t believe Anacostia infiltrated the prison base.

Scylla rolled over on her back, ignoring the pain at the sudden movement. Her eyes opened, settling on the plaster white ceiling of her temporary bedroom. There were a lot of cracks and dents scattered amongst the expanse of the room. Scylla had always wondered where they came from. When she was a kid, she’d imagine they came from a righteous battle where both sides were civil and fair because Scylla believed in that when she was naive, small— _scared._

Oh, how she loathed her younger self. The younger self that is able to look at the world with such a clean slate—a fresh start. She wanted to know what it was like, not having the urge to set everything ablaze and watch it burn. The military had done nothing but ripped her- _their_ lives to shreds with no hesitation, looking for their own gain. They had done nothing but caused pain, anger, and— _oh_

Raelle.

They had given her—Raelle.

Well, the military didn’t _give_ her Raelle (they didn’t deserve that credit) but she wouldn’t have known of the blonde without them. Deep down inside, Scylla hated those are the circumstances.

(She hated that it was the truth.)

The one person who, despite the position she was under, found herself opening up too, because how could she not? Raelle was _Raelle—_ selfless, kind, gentle, and loved so fiercely with no shame or hesitation.

Raelle was _home_.

Scylla never had one before.

Well, not really, she’s stayed in plenty of houses while she and her parents dodged but that didn’t pull out any reaction from the brunette. Unless you count the sense of dread when they had to move again. No, there was no warm fuzzy feeling (at least not anymore), no sudden giddiness, no traces of heat on her cheekbones after certain words murmured in her hair.

No,there was none of that.

At least not anymore.

_

“We need to go to Fort Salem.”

Scylla quirked an eyebrow from where she was sitting at the counter, mouth wide open and a piece of toast hovering mere inches away. She cleared her throat, setting down the burnt piece of toast and cracking her neck to release the already building tension.

“I haven’t even had my coffee yet, Anacostia.” A smirk tugged on her lips as the older witch grabbed a mug from one of the cabinets. Setting it down harshly and filling it to the brim with the dark liquid, she wordlessly placed it in front of the girl with a small unamused smile.

“Anything else, Ramshorn?”

The witch looked down at the plain cup, tilting her head before moving to catch brown eyes’ gaze again.

Scylla batted her eyelashes.

“Cream and sugar?”

“This is a safe house, Ramshorn,” Anacostia leaned against the counter, “not a hotel.”

“Huh.” Scylla mused, taking her time to look around. “Could have sworn this was my vacation-”

A heavy sigh fell from the training officer’s lips at the girl’s comments. Pinching the bridge of her nose, Anacostia closed her eyes for a moment. The whole situation was already stressful enough and Ramshorn’s condescending comments did not help.

“The plan is to get you to Fort Salem-“

“Which Alder doesn’t even know about.” Scylla finished with a tilt to her head. Her hands in front of her moved to emphasize her words. “Did you even think this through? You are trying to get an ex-Spree agent on the military base.”

“You’ve done it before.”

Scylla’s eyes grew cold.

“That was before I was to a prison in the Caribbean.”

Suddenly, Anacostia’s steely gaze broke, instead choosing to down at her worn combat boots.

“We need you, Scylla.”

The sudden use of her name caught the girl off guard more than she would like to admit. It was rare when Anacostia would call her anything other than her last name. It was odd and left a weird feeling in her stomach. Scylla didn’t know if she liked it or not.

“Whether Alder realizes or not, you and your skills are valuable in this war.”

Scylla bit her lip, contemplating the witch’s words with furrowed eyebrows.

The last thing she wanted to do was go back to Fort Salem because that meant facing reality. She didn’t care about the stares and retaliation that was sure to come her way.

No, they could talk all they want.

_Fuck them._

“When?” She asked, moving her gaze up.

Anacostia relaxed slightly, her shoulders drooping just a little.

“Tomorrow.”

Tomorrow, _shit_ , that was sooner than Scylla thought.

_No time like the present, I guess._

She forced a smug, slightly pained, grin on her face and raised her eyebrows in the condescending way she always did.

“Do you think Alder improved the lunch menu? I’m going to be starving when we get there.”

_

Raelle stood motionlessly in front of the iron fence, staring off at the distance of the fields laid out before her and on the witch currently practicing with the wind. It’s been days since she’s been fully functioning. She barely focused on anything, her mind always wandering to distant memories of dark hair and alluring eyes.

Honestly, she felt like someone stabbed her in the heart and ran her over with a bus.

She knew Tally and Abigail were worried, she could see it in their eyes whenever they looked at her.

Raelle hated pity.

That’s all she saw from her Unit—pity. Pity for having her heart ripped out of her chest, for falling for the wrong person—for being so _stupid_ to let herself fall.

Now, here she was.

She was alone with a poor excuse of an attempt of happiness and sorrowful glances.

_Fuck them._

They could do whatever they want, Raelle didn’t care.

She just wanted to not feel like _this_ anymore. She was tired of the gaping hole in her chest, that only seemed to be growing by the day, and the sharp pain from the sudden absence of her everything— _her home._

This was unhealthy. Raelle knew that and tried, _goddess_ , she _tried_ to shake the consuming thoughts but, of course, no such luck.

Scylla Ramshorn was a drug that Raelle couldn’t seem to quit.

_Deep down, she didn’t want to._


	3. i'm standing guard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seems it’ll have to wait, Scylla mused to herself while subtly bracing herself for impact. 
> 
> “Ladies.” 
> 
> She was too tired to start something and did not have the energy to deal with it. 
> 
> “Lovely to see you two again.”

Fort Salem is the same.

Not that Scylla expected anything different. The layout is the same, the air, trees, grass, rooms, everything was still the same, yet somehow everything has changed. Scylla was still in awe at the soldiers who were so blind and foolish to be loyal to a war machine.

She never understood.

Though then again, most of these cadets didn’t have her baggage, and if she had a guess, none of them were ex-Spree agents.

Walking through the grounds barely felt real as Anacostia led her through the hidden back way. Scylla could feel her shoulders tensing by the mere sight of the familiar buildings as they got closer. Two years she wasted at this place and now, goddess knows why she’s coming back.

_(Scylla knew why but just for a moment she wanted to forget)_

“Once we get to my office you stay put until I come and get you,” Anacostia spoke firmly,keeping her gaze ahead. “Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Scylla smirked.

They kept walking for a few more minutes before coming upon a metal door. Anacostia hummed a low tone, holding it for a second before the sound of a lock reached their ears and she pulled the door open.

Scylla peered in the doorway, swallowing hard at the long dark hallway. The feeling of two scrutinizing eyes burned in the back of her head and she shook off her uneasiness to fain confidence. Taking a few steps forward, she waited, turning slightly for Anacostia to take the lead. The older witch nodded, leading her once again to their destination.

“Alder was made known of your arrival to Fort Salem.” She spoke lowly, walking purposely with her arms swinging by her side.

“I’m guessing she’s not happy?” Scylla grinned, a twinkle of glee in her eye at the mere thought of upsetting the beloved General.

Anacostia sighed, shifting her jaw.

“She was…upset.”

Scylla let out a low hum, choosing not to respond as they both walked in silence. Her feelings on the General were very well known to Anacostia and to Alder herself. She didn’t try to hide it and she definitely couldn’t when they locked her up in a basement for goddess knows long. Though Scylla had forgiven Anacostia. Of course, the older witch didn’t know that but she had. The kindness hidden beneath her actions threw the girl off guard and stayed with her up to the Caribbean.

_You’ve been kinder to me than you needed to be._

_Hold onto the part of you that’s good._

_Thank you._

“Ramshorn.”

Scylla looked up to see another door open with Anacostia waiting for her to step inside.

_Here we go._

_

“Well,” Scylla started, slumping down on one of the armchairs by the window in Anacostia’s office, “that went better than I expected.”

Anacostia let out a small scoff, shaking her head to look incredulously at the girl.

“You were threatened to be sent back to prison and charged with four counts of treason five times.”

Scylla shrugged nonchalantly. It was true, Alder was less than pleased to see the very witch she thought she got rid of sitting so casually on her officer’s desk. Though, Scylla assumed her behavior certainly did not help to put the General at ease, and meeting her eyes with a condescending smirk was pushing it.

“Pretty soon everyone is going to know you’re here.” Anacostia closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose.

_Everyone._

Scylla’s eyes dimmed at the meaning of the officer’s words. A distant look clouded her pupils, stopping any words on the tip of her tongue to fall back into her throat.

_I feel broken._

_Thanks to you._

_I’m sorry we ever met, Scyl._

“How-” Scylla swallowed harshly, flinching at the crack in her voice, “-should I…”

“Give her time.” Anacostia finished for her, a rare look of concern sketched in her features. She still was not used to such a vulnerable side of the young witch and couldn’t help but feel a little uncomfortable.

She nodded weakly, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as if trying to convince herself to do just that.

“Right.”

_Time._

_She could do that._

_She could give Raelle time._

_If that’s what Raelle wanted, Scylla would give her all the time in the world._

_She just hoped Raelle wouldn’t ask for more._

___

Turns out the world really fucking hates her.

Walking around the grounds (far away from the base, she might add), Scylla wonders what she did to end up in this situation. She had just been wandering down the edge of the land, near the wired fence, minding her own business and counting her steps, trying to get her mind to relax.

Standing in front of her, two familiar and achingly real figures watched as she brought herself to a sudden stop, barely holding in a bitter chuckle.

_Seems it’ll have to wait_ , Scylla mused to herself while subtly bracing herself for impact.

“Ladies.” She nodded, trying to tone down her callous tone. She was too tired to start something and did not have the energy to deal with it. Instead, she offered them a small smile. “Lovely to see you two again.”

Abigail Bellweather and Tally Craven stood in all their glory, shoulder brushing against each other and chins held up high. They looked the same but somehow different in ways Scylla never realized. The famous Abigail Bellweather still held herself in her ignorant way but there was something else there. Scylla couldn’t put her finger on it. And Tally—Tally just looked tired—as if someone had ripped the life out of her (she felt a twinge of remorse for the girl).

It looked odd, the two of them standing at attention, defensively, waiting for her to strike. Scylla scoffed inwardly at the thought. As if she would hurt someone so close to-

“How the hell are you here?”

Okay, she wouldn’t hurt them but a little pushback wouldn’t kill them.

“High Atlantic.” Scylla grinned slightly, pushing her hands in her pockets. “Still high and mighty?”

Abigail growled, clenching her fists, and nearly took a step towards the brunette, anger flashing in her eyes. She watched as Tally quickly took a hold of her Unit-mate’s wrists, squeezing gently to calm her down.

Scylla had always liked the redhead. Tally was nice to her. They barely have had a conversation but the kindness and warmth just rolled off her, attacking anyone near and Scylla was a victim.

“Well, I hate to break this up but I have to get to a meeting.”

That was a lie. She would most likely end up crawling back to Anacostia’s office and sit and wait until they could go back to the safe house. Obviously, walking outside was not an option yet.

“I still don’t understand how you’re here.” Abigail spat again, venom seeping in her voice.

“Abigail-” Tally tried to interrupt.

Abigail ignored her, taking a daring step forward. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Well,” Scylla drawled out, meeting the girl’s eyes with a dangerous sharpness, “that’s not your call, Bellweather. Talk to me when you’re a higher rank.”

She stepped back glaring at her before throwing Tally a much softer look, smiling weakly. Tally nodded, the corner of her mouth twitching as she tried to not respond to the sudden shift of softness in the brunette.

“Why are you here?” Tally asked inquisitively, stepping forward before she could turn around to make her escape.

Scylla cleared her throat.

“Anacostia will tell you. Meanwhile, I am not allowed to say anything.”

That only seemed to make Abigail madder than she was, triggering her into action. Suddenly, Scylla found herself on her back, hitting the ground with a wince as a sharp pain traveled through her back.

Well, that definitely fucked up her back.

Her arms were forced above her head, held down harshly with an iron grip enough to leave marks. A faint memory of the same situation came to mind, distracting her for a moment. The ghost feeling of hot lips insistently mouthing her skin and hips rolling sent a wave of warmth and contentness through her body, only to be crushed a second later. Abigail stared down at her with pure fury in her eyes, breathing heavily as Tally was yelling in the distance to calm them both down. Scylla bucked her hips as she tried to get the unfamiliar weight off of her lower body, twisting and turning despite the agonizing pain building with every second.

“Abigail! Stop!”

“You’re a traitor.” Abigail snarled, leaning in close to Scylla’s face. “You killed innocent people with so much of a second glance. You ruin people’s lives.”

“Don’t forget coward.” Scylla hissed before grimacing at the shifting of weight on her back.

“You used her,” Abigail screamed, catching Scylla off guard. She seemed to know exactly where to hit the nail on the head: and if the way Scylla suddenly stopped moving and eyes dimmed was anything to go by, she hit it perfectly. “You used her when all she did was love you!”

Scylla’s gaze lowered, jaw trembling as her words opened new wounds that haven’t been attended to yet. She knew what she did and now she had to live with regret every day, even when she hoped her end would come sooner than later.

Raelle loved her and that was the greatest thing in the world until it all came crumbling down. Scylla had lost. She lost her happy moments, comfort, the hard work she put in to become a better person— _for_ _Raelle_.

_So much for trying_.

Tally suddenly came in view, pulling the other girl off of her. Scylla gasped for air as the weight was lifted. Immediately, rolling to her side, she grasped her lower back with a weak whimper. She didn’t even realize she was crying until a few tears dropped on the arm that was cushioning her head.

Abigail stumbled back, letting Tally drag her away from the brunette, shocked at what came over her.

“I didn’t mean to.” She insisted to Tally, a trace of fire still left in her pupils. “I was just trying to-”

“Protect Raelle.”

Tally squeezed her hands before jogging over to Scylla.

Abigail nodded, the pit in her stomach grew as she turned to see the brunette lying on the ground, groaning. She hadn’t meant to _physically attack_ the girl, just wanted to fight and stand up for her sister. She watched as Tally spoke softly to her, pushing lightly on her shoulders to keep her laying down.

“Abigail, get Anacostia.” She called over her shoulder, cursing under her breath at Scylla’s relentless tendency to push off her hands.

“I’m fine.” Scylla groaned, attempting to sit up again and being held down by the redhead again.

“No, you’re not,” Tally responded, ignoring her protests. Instead, she looked over her shoulder, calling over again with more urgency.

“Abigail, Anacostia!”

Abigail cursed before launching into a full sprint.


	4. fragile things, helpless things

Anacostia took a deep breath while rubbing her temples tiredly. It had only been a few hours since she had let Scylla roam the grounds. Though now, clearly, that had not been the wisest decision and Anacostia was regretting it.

“Bellweather, I am going to pretend you did not tell me you…” She stopped, looking up at the soldier with raised eyebrows. “…accosted Scylla Ramshorn.”

Abigail shifted on her feet, shoulders squared as she met the training officer’s eyes. Taking her silence as the answer, Anacostia stood up from her seat, wiping her palm on her pants before heading to the door, not waiting for Abigail to follow.

It’s been a while since she’s really seen any of the Bellweather Unit. She was still their training officer but with the current situation she was in and piling tasks, priorities came to view and stole her away from sessions.

Anacostia found that she missed seeing the Unit, fighting or not, but she wasn’t about to let them know that.

“Are you going to inform me what happened, soldier?” She spoke firmly, walking quickly to where Abigail told her the brunette was.

“She was-” Abigail stopped, shaking her head. “-Tally and I were walking the grounds and we saw Scylla before she saw us.”

Anacostia nodded and the sight of the wire fence came into view.

“I didn’t mean to.” She continued, with a tinge of regret. “Raelle has been all over the place and seeing the reason why in-person…made me angry.”

“You care for Raelle,” Anacostia said, eyes roaming in front to catch a glimpse of the brunette.

Abigail stayed silent, quickening her pace as familiar trees came into view. Her pulse quickened as the figures were visible.

They hadn’t moved.

Scylla was still on her side, eyes closed and brow furrowed, and Tally sat with her legs crossed, a hand on the small of the brunette’s back and mouth moving slowly. Seeing the change in the air, the redhead looked up, eyes brightening at the sight of the witches. She tapped Scylla’s shoulder, lips moving again, probably warning her of the two new presences.

“Ramshorn.” Anacostia sighed, squatting down to her line of view.

Scylla opened her eyes. A weak grin tugged her lips as she attempted to cover the obvious discomfort she was in. “Anacostia, is it time to go already?”

She sighed again. “Where’s the pain?”

Scylla rolled her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“Her back.”

Anacostia looked up at Tally, who shrugged and struggled to keep her eyes off of the lying witch on the ground. She couldn’t make out the look in her eyes, distracting her from the previous task.

Tally Craven was a bright student with a pure heart. She was always bubbly and able to be friends with anyone who came her way, somehow she even befriended Raelle, who was the grumpiest witch Anacostia had encountered. So, here she was, staring at Scylla Ramshorn with pity, remorse, and a blazing fire in her eyes, battling each other to gain control.

Tally didn’t want to be angry at Scylla, Anacostia realized, watching the redhead for a few more moments. No, it looked as though Tally understood all the pain and misery the other girl had gone through. It looked as though she had forgiven Scylla for all the terrible things she had done.

Shaking her head, Anacostia turned back to Scylla and catching her eyes.

“We need to get you to the safe house.”

“Oh good,” Scylla feigned interest, wincing, “back to vacation.”

“Shut up.”

_

“So, are you going to tell me why Abigail quarterbacked you into the ground?”

Anacostia spoke calmly, lifting up the back of Scylla’s shirt to check the injury. A large bruise was starting to form, deep and purple with bits of yellow splattering in the middle. It would most likely heal in a week but the muscles underneath were more worrying.

Scylla winced, hissing at the slight pressure of Anacostia’s hand, an iron-tight grip on the counter she was sitting on. The two had returned to the house, barely making it through the doorway without the girl falling over. It was not her best moment, the last thing she wanted to do was to come off as weak to Anacostia. Though, on another note, Scylla had discovered that the witch had an impressive amount of vulgar vocabulary store up in that brain of hers.

“Oh, you know.” She muttered, chuckling bitterly. “The usual High Atlantic attitude.”

Anacostia hummed, grabbing a jar of salve from the cupboard. It won't heal the injury faster but would give the girl calming effects to take away from the pain for a while.

“Sounds like she had a reason.”

Scylla grew quiet. The amusing smirk dropped from her lips and she started fidgeting with her hands, fingering the cold surface.

Opening the jar, Anacostia dipped her hand in, gathering a large amount of the blue jelly-like substance before pressing it to pale skin. Scylla jumped in surprise at the cold feeling, tearing a groan from her throat as the older witch watched her with amusement. Grumbling, the brunette settled back down, cheeks flushed in the slight embarrassment of her reaction.

The two stay silent, minding their own business and having their own thoughts. An occasional groan or sharp intake of breath would disrupt the air but it quickly fell back into place after a few seconds. Anacostia continued to apply more of the salve, mind wandering to the amount of work she has to do to present to Alder and the number of responsibilities she still has-

“I was trying to get a rise out of her,” Scylla spoke softly, staring ahead with empty eyes.

“She’s always disliked me, even before-” She stopped at the slight break in her voice, clearing her throat as an attempt to keep her words even. Anacostia kept working. “-before everything happened.”

Anacostia stayed quiet for a few moments, taking in the words she had announced to the empty kitchen. “You wanted her to hurt you.” She said with a confused certainty, stopping her circling motions on the knotted muscles. “Why?”

Scylla shrugged helplessly again, biting her lower lip.

“Scylla.”

There it was again, the sudden use of her name to get her to open up. Everyone said her name differently. Mostly it would be filled to the brim with distaste, spat eagerly out of people’s mouths like a curse as if the name itself would damn them to eternal hell.

Ironic, considering some did believe she was purely only capable of torture and causing trouble.

It was different though when Anacostia said it. Anacostia spoke it with such confidence and enough warm firmness, like a mother reprimanding her children when they forget to do a small task.

It painfully reminded Scylla of her own.

Suddenly, an empty laugh fell out of her mouth, eyes closing for a moment before straightening out her back as much as she could.

“You use that a lot when you want me to talk.” She pointed out.

Anacostia sighed, resuming her motions with the salve. “That’s your name, isn’t it?”

Silence fell upon them again.

Scylla didn’t know how she ended up here. Here, as in this house specifically. The house where she and her family had actually stayed in on one of their many moves across Cession to avoid the Conscription. She was sure that Anacostia was not aware of the fact and the distant but vivid memories that kept her awake at night.

That was another can of worms that Scylla didn’t want to open yet.

“I think you wanted Bellweather to hurt you because you’re drowning.”

Scylla furrowed her eyebrows, twisting to look over her shoulder at the witch.

“In your guilt.” She spoke again, grabbing a towel to wipe the salve off her hands. “You wanted to give her a sense of satisfaction.”

“In what?” Scylla shot back, holding her shirt by her waist as she waited for the substance to dry, eyes following Anacostia as she moved to put the jar back in the cupboard, sealing it shut.

“Revenge.” Anacostia spun around, leaning against the counter, crossing her arms.

“Her revenge she felt she was obligated to do for Raelle.”

Her stomach dropped at the mention of the blonde Fixer, face twitching as she tried to mask her surprise and hurt from the older witch (Anacostia saw it anyways). Looking down at her hands gripping the fabric of her shirt, Scylla swallowed hard, weakly attempting to blink away the oncoming stinging in her eyes and ache in her chest.

_Everyone just really knows where to hit, huh?_

_Shut the fuck up._


	5. up to the surface

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Rae.” Tally starts, frantically looking to the taller witch next to her for help. 
> 
> “What’s going on?” Raelle asked slowly, shutting the door behind her with a soft thud.

Raelle stared at the witch across from her, brow raised in question at the sudden disruption from her lunch.

“I’m sorry, can I help you?” She snapped, slightly annoyed.

Her mood had been terrible for the past week, more than that if you ask Abigail, but that’s not the point. The point is, Raelle just wanted a single moment to herself to let out all her anger on the soup she was eating.

The witch smiled shyly at her with a set of deep blue eyes, tucking a piece of dark hair behind her ear.

The room suddenly felt too hot.

'Wow,” the girl started, bright-eyed, “I didn’t think you would be so snarky.”

Tilting her head, Raelle set her fork down, leaning back in her chair, watching as the girl smiled widely at the victory of getting Raelle’s attention. She placed her hands on the table, tapping out a quick rhythm.

“I’m Melanie.” The brunette offered, holding out a small hand.

Raelle stared at her questionably before slowly taking the outstretched hand. She couldn’t stop looking at the witch’s dark hair in tousled loose waves, framing her face perfectly.

_Dark hair, trouble._

_It was pretty. Really pretty. Kinda like-_

No, she couldn’t go down that road.

Raelle was too tired and needed a break, if but for a moment. The witch- Melanie let out a breathy laugh, pulling her hand back slowly from Raelle’s grip.

“Sorry,” Melanie apologized, “this must seem weird.”

“No-” Raelle sat up, absentmindedly reaching across the table, “-I’m just not having the best day. That’s all.”

Her cheeks flushed at the bright gaze of the witch, sending a sudden wave of warmth through her. Raelle grinned, ducking her head before shyly looking up again, ignoring the small ache in her chest.

“I’m Raelle.”

Another grin.

_

Walking back to her room, Raelle released a long sigh. Her lunch had run longer than she realized and now her Unit was going to give it to her. They made it very clear for her not to be late, reminding her throughout the morning, but clearly, that didn’t work out as well as they hoped.

The conversations with Melanie replayed in her head, distracting her from her surroundings. The deep feeling of guilt pulsed in her chest at the mere thought of talking to someone else, leaving her feeling dirty.

Goddess, she felt terrible just looking at her.

Her heart ached and screamed for the familiar dark hair, siren eyes, and the smell of pine and sea salt invading her senses. The need to mold her body to the one she missed so dearly loomed over her like a shadow. If she closed her eyes, she could hold onto the ghost of that very moment. The feeling of soft lips tracing her collarbones, kissing her passionately, strong hands gripping her shoulders as they tugged downwards, and a smile that wrinkled the corners of the mouth, holding nothing but warmth and affection while letting out a melodic laugh.

_She missed her._

_Goddess, she missed her._

She was so angry at herself—for wanting the brunette still. The red, hot lava poured out of her nonstop for days, weeks—almost months.

Scylla Ramshorn had lied to her about everything.

Raelle finally started to believe that she could be happy, that the Fixer had a future instead of her plan of dying in the front lines like her mama.

_Your plan was hot garbage._

Yet the goddess thought otherwise, ripping Raelle away from the perfect reality she was living and showing her the true colors of whom she fell in love with.

_Scylla is Spree._

And despite everything that happened—every heart-wrenching moment—Raelle would do anything to bring her back. She didn’t know what would happen, how she would react, but Raelle needed to know if she was safe and alive.

She needed to know if she got that walk on the beach.

_Come with me. I want to show you something._

She just wanted Scylla back.

_I’m all sweaty and gross-_

Raelle wonders how long she had been standing outside of her room, staring at the wooden door with tired eyes. The sound of rummaging and harsh whispers reaching her ears from the other side, confusing the blonde as she reached for the door handle. Opening the door, Abigail and Tally stop mid-motion, straightening up at the sight of the Fixer with pained expressions.

_No, you’re not._

“Rae.” Tally starts, frantically looking to the taller witch next to her for help.

“What’s going on?” Raelle asked slowly, shutting the door behind her with a soft thud.

The other two witches exchange obvious glances at each other, conversing with exasperated looks, which causes Raelle ask again with furrowed brows.

Suddenly, Tally rips her gaze from Abigail’s, turning to her stiffly with wide eyes before blurting out the one thing Raelle hoped and loathed for.

“Scylla’s back.”

_Live a little._

___

Shellshocked.

That’s the only way Raelle could describe the pounding of her heart and head. Her emotions were scattered all over the place and she couldn’t get a hold on them.

_Alive._

_Scylla was alive._

She swallowed hard, breathing heavily through her mouth as her pulse quickened. Suddenly, Raelle became aware of everything around her. The air was too hot, stuffy, and she felt like she was suffocating, lungs barely functioning and skin too itchy. Ripping off her jacket, she threw it haphazardly on her bed, running a hand through her hair as she paced around the room.

Tally and Abigail watched with worried expressions, having the decency to look down at the floor as Raelle processed the words the redhead had blurted out so suddenly.

Initially, Raelle couldn’t process what the redhead had just said, ignoring the pitying glances from her Unit. Though as the seconds went by and their expressions didn’t change, Raelle felt her senses start to shut down and it was bound to implode everywhere.

“She’s- she’s alive.” Raelle breathed, whipping herself around with a spark growing in her eyes. “How do you know that?”

Tally shifted uncomfortably. “Well, it’s actually interesting-“

Abigail interrupted her. “We were walking the grounds and saw her by the outskirts near the fence.”

“And she’s here?” Raelle snapped. Her eyes were red from the oncoming stinging in the back of her head. “You talked to her- you actually saw her?”

“Raelle.” Abigail spoke firmly. “She’s working with Anacostia on some plan- Anacostia hasn’t told us yet.” She finished off the blonde’s expression.

“No, this isn’t real.” Raelle suddenly burst out in an empty laugh, a cruel smile gracing her lips as she attempted to convince herself of the strangled words coming out of her throat. “Scylla was sent to the Caribbean- I saw her. She was in cuffs and a collar and Anacostia said she wasn’t coming back.”

Tally and Abigail stayed silent, jaws clenched at the unraveling of their own sister. Suddenly, Tally stepped forward, taking the blonde in her arms and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“It’s okay.” She murmured as Raelle eventually let herself reciprocate the affection.

“She can’t be here.” The Fixer whispered, shaking her head.

“Raelle-“ Abigail started.

“No!” She tore herself away from Tally, growling lowly, claws out as a defense mechanism. Ugly feelings of betrayal worming its way to the surface, bursting through. “There’s no way they let her back! You said it yourself, Tally. She’s Spree. A liar. She lied to me-”

Her voice broke, causing her to pause for a moment. The waves of sadness and anger crashing against each other in the middle and meeting to form the perfect storm. Closing her eyes, Raelle attempted to push away the lump in her throat.

“I saw her,” Raelle whispered, something broken in her eyes. “She was being shipped out to die and I left.”

“Raelle-” Abigail grabbed her arms, forcing her to look at her.

“I walked out on her.” Pained blue eyes flickered, meeting brown orbs, jaw trembling and brows furrowed. “I told her, ‘we all go sometime’.”

Abigail shut her eyes, ignoring the uneasy feeling of such use of a callous phrase used against the returning brunette. Yes, she knew that Raelle could never mean the truth behind those words, knew that it was a heat of the moment thing that caught her off guard, knew that Raelle loved Scylla with her whole being.

Opening her eyes, Tally had moved, coming behind Raelle and wrapping her arms around the blonde’s waist.

“Let’s get you to your bed, Rae,” Tally muttered, slowly starting to walk backgrounds as Raelle nodded weakly, letting herself be dragged to the mattress.

Supporting her arms, Abigail followed, keeping her grip as they sat the Fixer down. Raelle sat quietly, staring down at her open palms of her hands, thumb tracing her left hand in a strange pattern.

Without a word, Tally started to undo the braid in Raelle’s hair, running her hands through the snarls and easing tension in her scalp as Abigail chose to sit down on the floor, humming quietly as she untied to laces of the blonde’s combat boots.

The Unit sat together, trying to comfort each other as much as possible, ignoring the heavyweight on their shoulders of the return of Scylla Ramshorn.

_Just can’t wait till we meet again._


	6. god, that was so long ago, long ago

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Scylla.” Her mother’s tone caught her off guard, causing her deep blue eyes to meet very similar ones. “Tell me.”
> 
> She hesitated for a moment, almost fleeing from the situation, but the way the older woman was looking at her made her feel safe—always made her feel safe—and that was the only thing that mattered to Scylla.
> 
> “How did you find your love?”

Opening her eyes, Scylla was met with the intense gaze of dark eyes. She sighed, stretching out her body as much as she could with her back.

“Anacostia,” She dragged out, pulling the blankets around her securely, “what a pleasant surprise.”

Anacostia stood with her hands behind her back, a stony expression gracing her features.

“What? No breakfast in bed?” Scylla grinned, tilting her head in glee.

“We’re leaving in ten minutes. Get dressed.”

Watching the brunette leave, Scylla let out a sigh. For a moment, she sat up and rubbed her temples, unsure of the position she ended up in. Her head ached for the impact it took from hitting the ground still and the muscles in her back still screamed every time she twisted it a wrong way.

“Maybe the Caribbean wasn’t so bad after all.” She mumbled before ripping off the blankets to the pile of clothes on the desk.

_

Scylla has longed for the day she got to see Raelle. Her nights filled with distant memories of the blonde, making her heart clench and head pound just a little more. She had always thought it would go badly (how could it not?). What with the remnants of the last words spoke to her still stuck in her head, repeating like a broken record player.

_I’m sorry we ever met, Scyl._

_I loved you._

So no, Scylla didn’t need any more grief or pitying glances from Anacostia. A part of her just wanted to get the first meeting over with because who doesn’t like getting their heart ripped out?Scylla knows everything she has done, she knows her actions, and now she knows her consequences. It wasn’t her intention to fall for the one person she should not have. Oh, how the Spree would have had a field day with her if they got her in their grasp.

_Your future will be bleak._

Scylla chuckled bitterly at the thought.

_It already is._

But, Scylla loved Raelle— _still_ loves Raelle—and she was not going to apologize for that. Not to anyone or even the blonde herself.

She had always thought it was a funny thing—love that is. What a silly concept that never made sense to her. Growing up, she would watch her parents with wide eyes, soaking in each interaction like a sponge, head tilting at the warm feeling in her stomach.

_“Mom?” Scylla asked timidly, staring at the woman working at the kitchen counter. She shuffled her sneakers against the ground, closing her eyes at the loud sound, waiting patiently._

_“Hmm?” Her mother continued working. The thick glasses sliding down the bridge of her nose, causing her hand to fly up towards her face, catching them before they slipped. Not hearing a response, she turned to Scylla, confusion on her face. “What is it, honey?”_

_Scylla shrugged, mumbling something under her breath._

_“Can’t quite hear you, Scyl.” The older woman chuckled, grasping her daughter’s hand and tugging lightly. The tops of Scylla’s shoes bumped into the desk._

_“I don’t understand,” Scylla repeated, cheeks burning underneath her mother’s gaze._

_Her mother tilted her head. “Understand what, Scylla?”_

_She shrugged again, avoiding eye contact and further embarrassment. It was a stupid question that Scylla couldn’t believe she thought was a good idea to ask. If her dad were here he would be cracking jokes. Scylla smiled at the thought._

_“Scylla.” Her mother’s tone caught her off guard, causing her deep blue eyes to meet very similar ones. “Tell me.”_

_She hesitated for a moment, almost fleeing from the situation, but the way the older woman was looking at her made her feel safe—always made her feel safe—and that was the only thing that mattered to Scylla._

_“How did you find your love?”_

Now, Scylla didn’t know what to make of it. She had let herself, love—let herself feel things she hadn’t in a while—but the Goddess wasn’t so kind.

At least not to Scylla.

Standing outside with the wind blowing and birds chirping, Scylla found herself walking to a familiar enclave of trees, hiding the ground from the peering sunlight. Her head was done, watching and counting her steps as the gravel turned to grass, softening under her feet.

“Time,” Scylla muttered, stuffing her hands in her pockets. “That’s easier said than done, Anacostia.”

A familiar patch of flowers caught her eye, stopping her in her tracks. Scylla swallowed, backing up a few steps to kneel down in front of them. Her fingers reached out, tracing a few petals with a cautious approach and the memory of a certain flower pressed against her cheek paused her in her administrations.

_No matter what happens, no matter what anybody else thinks._

Her eyes slipped closed, reminiscing. She couldn’t help herself. Everything had changed, would continue to change with the fight for witches.

Scylla wanted a piece of serenity—something to keep her sane.

_I’m with you._

A bitter laugh fell from her lips, fingers closing around a thin stem harshly as she ripped it from the ground and its roots.

No one was with her.

Scylla was alone.

Maybe that’s how the Goddess intended it to be—alone and bitter.

A snap of a twig came from the right, causing her to stand up quickly in alarm. Her hands clenched into fists, one crushing the dainty flower as footsteps became louder.

_Great,_ Scylla thought, shifting her weight as if to brace herself, _hopefully not another High Atlantic encounter._

“Hello?” She called out, taking small steps forward, looking around slowly. “High Atlantic, I thought we had our confrontation already?” Her back pulsed at the thought of hitting the ground again.

The footsteps continued, growing louder as soft grumbles reached her ears, causing Scylla to furrow her brows in confusion.

“Who’s there?” She called out again.

Scylla turned around after a moment of silence, cursing herself for being paranoid.

“You’re too in your head.” She muttered to herself, shaking her hands out, the flower hanging loosely between her fingers.

Letting out a sigh of defeat, Scylla released her stiff posture, eyes downcast at the thought of being alone hit her harder.

_You’ve always been alone._

A flash of something bright caught the corner of her eye. Whipping her head around, Scylla held her breath, waiting for another sign of movement—anything, really— to prove she wasn’t imagining things. Her pulse echoed in her ears, growing faster before she let out the air in her lungs slowly, taking deep breaths. She felt ridiculous. She had never been so jumpy before, which Scylla took pride in, but apparently, that changed drastically.

_Among with other things-_

Scylla shook her head, taking one last glance before turning around to head back to meet Anacostia. She took slow steps, basking in the simplicity of the movement and steady walking. Another sound of a twig snapping caught her attention, sudden frustration bubbling up to the surface. Fire burning in her eyes and sharp words on the tip of her tongue, Scylla whipped around.

The words died in her throat, settling heavily to her stomach and the air in her lungs all but dissipated. A wave of coldness seeped through her bones and sent a shiver down her pulsing back.

Blue eyes stared into hers, growing cold and freezing the brunette in place.

_No matter what anybody else thinks._

“Raelle.” Scylla breathed, a bright gleam in her eye and uncontrollable smile formed at the sight of the blonde, completely helpless to stop it.

_I’m with you._


	7. i see the familiar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Raelle.” Scylla breathed, a bright gleam in her eye and an uncontrollable smile formed at the sight of the blonde, completely helpless to stop it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys, sorry this has taken so long. I've been really busy with school and everything. ANYWAYS, this is going to be pretty short and the angst will come in the future. this is just a warm up ;)

“Raelle.” Scylla breathed, a bright gleam in her eye and an uncontrollable smile formed at the sight of the blonde, completely helpless to stop it.

Raelle stood motionlessly, staring at her with an unreadable expression, face stoic. “You’re here.” She spoke slowly.

Scylla nodded. She fidgeted with her hands, holding herself back from reaching out to the blonde.

“Yes- I- Anacostia helped me.” She stumbled over her words, swallowing hard.

She watched as Raelle nodded silently, keeping her eyes on the ground before her, actively avoiding Scylla’s eyes, or her in general. The pit in her stomach deepened, urging her to do something to fix what she’s done.

_If only it were that easy._

“I know that you don’t want to see me,” Scylla started, ignoring the small flinch on Raelle’s face. Taking a deep breath, she continued, keeping her eyes on the flower in her grasp, “but I am glad you’re okay.” Her voice cracked, sending a rush of warmth to her cheeks, coloring them slightly.

Raelle looked up for a moment, studying her with furrowed brows and thin lips. The heat of her gaze colored Scylla’s cheeks more, hesitating, unsure what do to before risking a look back. Locking eyes with the blonde, the two stared at each other, holding each other’s gaze with such intensity that both felt it in their bones (their hearts too but no one was going to admit that).

Raelle’s eyes always made her feel safe. She could easily get lost in the light pools of blue, surrendering herself to be taken away to a better place without looking back. Meeting those eyes across the room, turning her head slightly when they’re right there, barely able to keep them open at the second she fell apart in Raelle’s arms.

Now, looking into the same pair, an odd feeling settled over her. Those were eyes filled with anger, regret, pity, and just _cold._

_You believed everything they said about me._

Shifting on her feet, Scylla pulled her hands out of her pockets, awkwardly reaching out in the space between them before pulling it back. She closed her eyes briefly, letting out a sigh.

“Can we talk? Please.”

Raelle’s face changed, crinkling around the edges as if disgusted by the mere words she had spoken. A sudden peal of laughter burst from her lips, falling empty on both their ears.

“After everything. You want to _talk_?” Raelle asked bitterly, turning over her shoulder in case of eavesdroppers.

_I loved you._

Scylla shook her head. Her mind was jumbled from the presence of the blonde, moving her hands frantically in front of her as she tried to gain a grasp on her words. “Rae-”

“Stay away from me.” The blonde spat, anger rising and a storm forming in her eyes, looking at her with such a look of discomfort, bitterness— _hate._

_Oh._

_That’s what it was._

Her chest ached at the mere thought because if the one person she opened up to and loved so strongly since her parents hated her—Scylla wouldn’t know how to keep from breaking.

Deep down, she knew she already was.

Raelle scoffed, shaking her head before moving, walking past her and aggressively running her shoulder into Scylla’s.

She held back a groan as the impact ran through her body, targeting the connected muscles and tendons running to her back. Raelle’s footsteps grew quieter and the sound of blood pumping drowned them out, leaving Scylla standing alone with her eyes stinging and a gaping hole in her chest.

_I still love you._

___

“Ramshorn, that was more than fifteen minutes,” Anacostia spoke absentmindedly to her opening door, eyes on the papers laid before her. Half expecting a snarky or sarcastic comment, she looked up after a few moments of silence.

Scylla Ramshorn sat on the armchair by the window, head turned to look out of the glass. Her hair covering her face, blocking the older witch from a clean view of her features.

“Ramshorn.” Anacostia tried again, standing up from her desk to walk over with a sense of worry starting to form.

“I won’t be late again.” The brunette turned to her, red eyes darting around the office frantically like a caged animal, desperate to get out.

A sense of alarm startled the older witch. Looking at the girl, before her, brought back painful screams and desperate cries that still haunted her in her thoughts. Now looking at her, she realized just how young the other witch was. Certainly too young for the amount of trauma in the short previous years.

Anacostia dipped her head, arms held behind her back as she addressed the girl again. “I think it’s time we go back.”

Scylla watched her with careful eyes, brows raised wearily as if aware of some sort of trick hidden amongst her words. “Thought you had work for Alder to do.”

The older witch released a breathy chuckle, moving towards her desk to grab a jacket before motioning to the door.

“It’s time to go, okay?”

Scylla stared at her longer, slowly pushing herself up to her feet and taking measured steps to the exit. Anacostia released a breath in relief, following the brunette outside and turning to lock the door behind them. As they started walking, Scylla realized they were going in the opposite direction. Confused, she opened her mouth, planning to shoot a question at the witch before she beat her to it.

“I think it’s time you get rid of your anger.”

Scylla scoffed. “I’m not angry-”

“Ramshorn.” Anacostia stopped, turning around and nearly causing her to crash into the taller frame. Brown eyes bore into her own, making Scylla slightly uncomfortable with what was hidden behind. Reluctantly, she sighed, lifting her hand in the direction in front of them, agreeing. “Good.”

“Where are we going?” Scylla asked, stuffing her hands in her pockets as she kept her eyes down.

“Somewhere where I like to get my anger out.”


	8. now i'm a broken mirror

“You can hit better than that, Ramshorn.”

Scylla growled lowly, fists tightening until the knuckles turned white as she swung again. Sweat dripped from her furrowed brow, traveling down her flushed pale skin as the woman in front of her smirked.

“Done?” Anacostia tilted her head and Scylla wanted to knock that smirk off her lips.

“What is the point of this?” Scylla spat again, positioning again for another round.

Anacostia shrugged, lifting her gloved hands up out in front of her. Her body rigid as Scylla began again, throwing punch after punch, her frustrated groans echoing in the cement room.

She didn’t know how long they’ve been there, breathing heavily in the sweat-filled room. Scylla seemed to have more aggression to get rid of than Anacostia realized. Of course, she had noticed the anguished looks and permanent frown on the girl’s face.

(She notices the hollow look in her eyes too but that’s too much to bear right now.)

And if the way Scylla is practically throwing herself into every hit, then Anacostia doesn’t say anything.

“Anacostia?”

The older witch blinked, apparently she had been more lost in her thoughts than she thought. Scylla stood in front of her, chest heaving and cheeks flushed. The glint in her eye intrigued Anacostia, setting her on edge at the familiarity of it.

Was that worry?

She watched as the brunette opened her mouth again before Anacostia cut her off.

“Yes. I’m fine.”

Scylla watched her for a moment, eyes darting over her facial features as if unsure of the words that came out of her mouth. The moment passes and Scylla clears her throat before turning around to gather her jacket off the bench.

Anacostia lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

_

The two sat in silence at the kitchen table, eating the hot broth Anacostia has prepared for them.The occasional scraping of the metal spoon against the bowl echoes through the room, leaving a chilling feeling in the air.

It carried on until both of them were finished and the silent agreement of no talking was leaking by the minute.

Anacostia pushed back her chair, wincing at the loud sound it made before moving to the sink to wash out her empty bowl. She could feel Scylla’s eyes on her, growing more and more apparent as she continued to work under the hot water, waiting for the girl to say something. She knew that eventually, she would be finding herself rooted to the spot as Scylla built up her courage to finally talk—to finally open up to someone.

Though, Anacostia understood her hesitation to do it again.

Not after last time.

Look where she is now.

“When we were dodging I had to learn about body language.”

Anacostia froze, hands stopping under the hot water.

“They thought it was something vital that I needed to know—to survive. Almost as if they knew they wouldn’t be with me in the future.” Scylla let out a bitter chuckle. The sound of the bowl scraping against the counter jolted Anacostia back to her previous motions.

“There were tests and real-life situations I would be put in and expected to execute perfectly.” She swallowed hard. “Start with the obvious parts—posture, stance, arms, hand movements—and move upwards.”

Anacostia reached up to turn off the water, keeping her back to the counter and hands in the soapy water.

“Evidently, turns out reading people was a secret niche for me.” Another bitter chuckle. “Part of the reason they wanted me so badly.”

Anacostia notes the different tones on the word, understanding the two separate subjects with the simple hints of emotion behind each one.

“Eventually, it became second nature to me and I found myself doing it without thinking.”

Anacostia tenses.

“Your back is tense and your arms are stiff. Your head is leaning downwards because you’re waiting for me to get to the point. You don’t like that I’m able to see the things you were trained to hide under that loyal-bullshit-solider-persona.”

“I know how smart you are, Scylla.” Anacostia spoke quietly, taking her hands out of the water, watching the drops fall back down, rippling the surface.

Scylla makes an amused noise in the back of her throat.

“It is a skill I’m quite proud of. Not everyone can do it perfectly and use it to their advantage.”

Anacostia was waiting for the ‘but’.

“I never thought that it would make worse.”

The older witch closed her eyes for a second, grabbing for a towel blindly.

“You saw her.”

It wasn’t a question, more like a statement.

Scylla had seen Raelle.

She had talked to Raelle.

They both knew it was to happen eventually.

Though, Anacostia didn’t think it would happen this soon.

“I had to stand there as my brain acted on instinct before I could stop it.” Scylla let out a breathy laugh, falling flat in the empty room. “The amount of hate and distain that was there is something I’ve only seen with the Camarilla.”

“Collar still loves you.” Anacostia spoke lowly as she turned around as if someone else was in the room.

“Right.” Scylla smiled bitterly, jaw clenching. “So is ‘stay away from me’ the cool new hip way to say that they love you too?”

Anacostia sighed, looking at her shoes as she spoke.

“Collar is…unique.”

A snort came from the brunette.

“She feels betrayed. It takes time to heal. She just needs time-”

“I know that.” Scylla snapped, eyes hardening. “Of course I know that she needs time. I’m the one who betrayed her- _I’m_ the one who _did_ this to her.”

“You didn’t do all of-“

“We both know that’s not true, Anacostia.” Scylla held her gaze, throat bobbing. “Because behind every reason she’s hurting: there’s me.”

The brunette shrugged weakly, jaw moving and lips trembling.

“Maybe I should just do her a favor and give her an infinite amount of time. That way she doesn’t need to see me again.”

“Raelle loves you. That part is real.”

Shiny darkened eyes snap up to meet hers again and Anacostia’s heart squeezes in her chest at the deprecating look in Scylla’s eyes.

And when pale lips slowly curve up to an empty smile and the destructive words leave her mouth, it hurts more than she should be feeling for…someone like her.

A terrorist.

An enemy.

Someone who did unforgivable things—who did those things _willingly_.

Someone who lost her family as a kid and had to fend for herself.

Someone who went through so much trauma at a young age, that when it _finally_ boiled over—she was _alone_.

Someone Anacostia can see herself in—or could have easily been.

_You always did have a soft spot for orphans._

“She shouldn’t. I don’t deserve that.”

“We all need love, Scylla.”

Scylla's jaw tightened at the words, throat moving as she swallowed roughly.

Anacostia leaned on the counter, forcing blue eyes to her own.

"The question is, when are you going to stop beating yourself up for wanting it too?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys!!! i am so sorry it has been so long since i've written anything. life is kind of crazy right now and i'm really trying to get through it. hopefully there will be more and as always thank you for your kind words and love. see you (hopefully) very soon, darlings :)


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